


Only the Lonely

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-21
Updated: 1999-08-21
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Only the Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Divia

## Only The Lonely

by Divia

* * *

Disclaimer: None of these charters are mine they belong to the creators of Due South so please don't sue me, I am a poor college student. Please e mail me at 

Nerine1431@aol.com with any comments. Thanks, Divia 

Francesca quickly ran through the airport, taking care not to run over any small children or elderly people who might cross her path. She gasped for air, suddenly realizing she no longer had the endurance of her youth; but she had no time to think of such things now, for she had to catch the plane or all her hopes would be crushed. Of course there was a slight chance her dreams would end at the gate anyway, but she had to try. Frannie would not live her entire life pondering "what if?" 

* * *

Turnbull seemed abnormally fidgety throughout the movie, tapping his foot, drumming his fingers on his legs and at times humming, which not only annoyed Francesca but the other occupants of the theater as well. Fran gave him a harsh glance, or a sharp elbow but it had no affect upon the Constable. After the movie they went to dinner, where the normally very talkative Turnbull was extremely quiet, only muttering a few short sentences or nodding when Fran asked him a question. There were moments when he showed no indication he was listening to her; because he was gazing around the room, a blank expression upon his face. On occasion Fran stopped in the middle of one of her long monologues to focus on Turnbull, whom was gazing at her with his sad blue eyes. 

His sudden change in demeanor confused Fran. He was normally so attentive to her, however something seemed to be on his mind. Turnbull did not speak of his emotions or the problems that were bothering him, which Fran believed to be some Mountie thing, but this night was different from the other nights, and it worried her. 

"Its a beautiful night," Fran said, as they walked together after dinner. She looked up at the star filled sky, impressed by its beauty. 

"Yes," he said simply, his eyes on the ground. Fran decided she had enough of his moping around. She needed to know what was bothering him.Fran stopped walking suddenly, and he moved past her, when he realized she was no longer at his side; he stopped and turned to her. 

"Ok, what is wrong with you?" Fran demanded. "You cant tell me something is not bothering you 'cause I can tell these things."Turnbull paused, unable, or unwanting to answer her at first. Then after what seemed like forever to Fran, he finally spoke to her. 

"I am leaving." 

"Oh." Fran did not seem phased by his information, which caused Turnbull to wonder if she understood or if she simply did not care. She walked up to him, with a smile on her face as if nothing had transpired. Turnbull decided he would try again, this time going into more detail. 

"Inspector Thatcher believes I would be more useful in Ottawa, so I am being transferred." He spoke suddenly as he told her, his eyes purposely adverting hers. Turnbull heard her sigh deeply then she asked in a quiet voice: 

"When will you be leaving?" 

"In a day." Was the quick answer. 

"Does Fraser know?" 

"Why the hell does she always have to bring him into our conversations?" he grumbled to himself. "He said good-bye to me today, and said it was a pleasure to work with me." His voice was not harsh towards her, it never was, but he was a little hurt by the mention of Constable Fraser's name. Turnbull was fully aware that Frannie was infatuated with the older man, but he did not like the fact, and had hoped that in time he would persuade her heart to change. However, now it looked as if he would not get his chance, which pained him deeply. 

"You should be happy," Fran said, suddenly, breaking the silence. "You will be going home. Don't you miss Ottawa?" 

Turnbull was unsure how to answer the question. "I do miss Ottawa," he admitted. "But I have grown to like Chicago. It would have been different if I asked for the transfer, but I did not. I was pushed into the situation." 

"OK, " Fran said, coming up with one of her bright ideas. "Tell the "Dragon Lady," you refuse to go. Ya know protest it or something. Wait, I have it," Fran pushed her hair behind her ear. " You can go past her, ya know to a higher person." 

"I have my orders. I will be leaving tomorrow, and nothing can change that." There was something in his voice that sounded so final and sad which made Fran feel strange. She could say nothing to comfort him, because she was unaware of what to say. Instead of making a fool of herself and saying something that would only hurt him, Fran did not speak for the rest of the walk. Turnbull, unable to speak of his feelings towards Fran decided it was best to keep the matter closed. It would not help her if he opened up to her now, the night before he left. So both walked in silence until they reached her house, which was lit by one porch light. 

"Detective Vecchio must be up," Turnbull said, noticing the living room light on. Every time Turnbull and Fran returned from a date the living room light would be on, and Ray would be waiting patiently for his younger sister to return home safely. 

"Yeah," Fran rolled her eyes. "He still treats me like a kid." She looked down at her feet and Turnbull looked down at her. "So, will I see you again?" Fran asked, unable to look up at him. 

"I am not sure. I leave early in the morning around nine." He smiled suddenly, "wont you still be in bed?" She did not have a chance to respond for Ray opened the window. 

"Come on Frannie I want to go to bed! It's late! Some of us have to work tomorrow!" 

"Shut up!" Fran shot back. "No one asked you to wait up!" The window shut and Fran shook her head. "I should go before his loud mouth wakes up the entire house," she told him, softly. 

"I have to pack still," Turnbull said, more to himself then to her as he stepped back . 

He watched her as she turned for the doorknob. "Ms. Vecchio," he said. 

"Yeah?" Fran turned around. 

Turnbull paused, wondering if he had enough courage to say what he needed to. "Um....thank you for tonight." He failed. 

"Oh, you're welcome," Fran smiled, looking up at him with her brown eyes. "And, thanks for taking me out to dinner all those times." Frannie pushed her hair behind her ear again. 

"I enjoyed every minute with you Ms. Vecchio," Turnbull told her, his voice sincere, his blue eyes locked onto her eyes. They stood in the darkness for a moment, unable to move nor speak, only gazing into each others eyes. 

"This YEAR Frannie!" Ray yelled again. Fran jumped, and then smiled, nervously. 

"I um, have to go," she motioned towards the door. 

"Alright. Good-bye Ms. Vecchio." Turnbull walked off of the porch and watched her as she opened the door and passed through it. He was upset with himself because he could not say anything more to her. Sighing, he glanced back at the house before he left the yard, then he began to walk towards the road. 

Fran closed the door. "Ya know you could have been a little quieter. I was talking." 

"You weren't talking, you were standing there, like you two do every time," Ray grumbled, turning off the tv, then throwing the remote on the sofa. 

"You shouldn't be watching me and no one asked you to stay up." Fran walked towards the staircase, Ray following her, and then she stopped suddenly, causing Ray to almost bump into her. 

"Watch it Frannie." 

She paid no attention to his remark. "Did you know Constable Turnbull is leaving for Ottawa, he is being transferred." Fran began to walk upstairs again. 

"Why do you care?" Ray asked. "It isn't Fraser, so you should be happy." 

"Yeah," she muttered, with no emotion, then walked into her room, closing the door behind her. 

As Fran prepared for bed her mind was on Turnbull and his departure. Her mind was fixated upon him, and all efforts to try and remove him from her mind was not working, no matter how hard she tried. Fran began to think of how sweet and kind he was to her. Turnbull was a caring man and Fran did not have to worry about the things she said before him, for fear of looking like a fool. He never belittled her, or made her feel worthless like so many other men had in her life. When she was with him he was always a gentleman towards her and made every effort to make Fran feel special. Fran always wanted Fraser to treat her with the same respect. True, he never said anything harsh to her, and treated her with kindness, but when she was around him she always felt inferior. Fraser was too perfect and impeccable in every way. Turnbull has his flaws, like herself, but he was a good man. 

Suddenly, she realized that it did not matter what she thought of Turnbull because he was leaving for Canada tomorrow. Fran crawled into bed and pulled the covers around her and felt her heart sink. She had been so preoccupied with Fraser and throwing herself at him that she did not notice Turnbull. He might have been....... 

"It doesn't matter anyway," She said to herself. "I don't know how he feels about me. What am I suppose to do, throw myself at him in the airport and beg him to stay? It would be different if I knew he liked me, but who knows. OK, once at dinner he was singing that country song "always on my mind" but he could have been acting nice or something.'" Frannie groaned out of frustration and pulled the covers over her head. She did not want to think about Turnbull, his song to her, or her confused feelings towards him, she only wanted to go to bed. 

* * *

* * *

"Ma'am, you need a ticket to board the plane," a stewardess said. Fran gasped for air, as she attempted to peer over passengers heads as they walked down the runway onto the plane. People pushed by her, knocking into her, but she refused to move, and insisted on looking for Turnbull. "You must move or I will... 

"In a minute!" Fran snapped boldly. Finally, she saw his red jacket. There was no mistaking his dress uniform. "Turnbull!" She called loudly. Turnbull turned when heard his name called. He made his way towards her, 

walking against the influx of people who were trying to board the plane. 

"Ms Vecchio, you aren't sleeping," he said, slightly shocked. 

"I know." Fran looked down at the floor, and began to fidget with her hands. "I came to say, well I was wondering." She nervously pushed her hair behind her ear. "Well its like this... 

"Passengers for flight..." the stewardess said, warning the passengers that the gate would close soon. Turnbull turned towards the gate then back at Francesca. 

"Um," Fran did not understand why she was having such a difficult time saying what she needed to. She had rehearsed in the car a thousand times, but now the words were not coming to her. Fran took a deep breath to steady her nerves, for she could feel herself shaking. It had been easy to throw herself at Fraser countless times, so why was she having such a hard time with Turnbull?? 

"Please don't go." Fran said the words so quickly that she could barely make out what she said. Turnbull's facial expression changed suddenly and he smiled. 

"I mean, I want you to stay. I didn't realize before but, well I..." 

"Final call for flight..." 

"Ms. Vecchio, I must go." 

"But," Fran felt crushed. He had rejected her before she could even start to pour her heart out to him. 

"I don't want to, I would rather stay in Chicago with you, but I have my orders. It's my duty to go, please understand." Fran stared at him, mouth opened slightly, not believing what she was hearing. Turnbull forced a smile onto his face. "Trust me Ms. Vecchio it is not easy for me to leave....you. I have to go now." Fran glanced up into his blue eyes, sadness overwhelming her. "May I kiss you?" 

"Wh---" She could not finish her response to his odd request, for Turnbull pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. For a brief second, Fran was disoriented, but then she grew comfortable in his strong arms and warm embrace. However, before she grew too comfortable, Turnbull released her from his embrace, looked down at her as the touched her cheek gently. 

"Good-bye, Francesca." An odd feeling came over her, when he spoke her name. She was about to say good-bye to him, but did not have the chance to speak her words for he quickly turned and ran down the ramp.Fran stood alone in the airport, her mind swarming. The man whom she finally admitted to having feelings for was now gone and she cursed at herself for being so damn foolish. If only she had stopped playing her stupid games with Fraser and throwing herself at him. Maybe, if she had recognized it sooner she and Turnbull could be together. Now there was nothing for her, save her broken heart. 


End file.
